The universe keeps giving me opportunities I don’t deserve
I let them dribble off my hot cheeks like tar scented rain drops
I can’t do anything anymore except this;
this writing I address to the cosmos and its many wives.
The falling key hammer looks like a raised third digit
my love letters read like numbered signs at an auction for your head
when the blade falls back on my skin or on the back of your neck
it will fall into a basket weaved by my great grandmother I never met
it will fall out of that basket and dribble off my hot cheek
the universe keeps giving me you and I don’t deserve it.
John Maurer is a 23-year-old writer from Pittsburgh who writes fiction, poetry, and everything in between. His work always strives to portray that which is truly beautiful. He has been previously published in Claudius Speaks, The Bitchin’ Kitsch, Thought Catalog, and more than twenty others. He can be found on Twitter @JohnPMaurer or at johnpmaurer.com.